Yes what?
by lonelyangel21
Summary: OC signs up for online dating, unsure what's she's in for when a certain Jim Moriarty meets her. First appearances can be deceptive. Rated M for well... not Moriarty *wink*


**Hey guys!**

**Looking for some uber feedback on this please! (Even if it's just spell checking :P)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**M**

The too good to be true aspect was already becoming apparent as April Jones looked up at Jim Moriarty, walking beside her, carefully matching her pace. She had inwardly sighed earlier at dinner upon their first meeting as he'd pulled her chair out for her as she arrived fashionably late, neatly tucking her in; the way he had complimented her hair, her smile, her eyes, and the insistence on paying. She had nodded politely and smiled when needed as they made small talk; finding similarities and sharing hobbies. It was all rather textbook as first dates go.

She was bored.

Even with the Irish accent, smart office haircut, those dark oak coloured eyes and finely tailored suit, he was still a preppy school boy in her eyes, carrying out the teachings of every rom-com and undoubtedly his mother on his assertion to walk her home with his suit jacket draped firmly over her shoulders. She was already dreading the awkward goodnight kiss, as he would inevitably turn down her standard issue offer to come in for coffee.

Though young in age, April had already refined her taste in men, so much so that bumping into 'the one' in the street was becoming less and less likely. Thank heavens for the internet. However tonight was looking fruitless, despite ticking all her boxes on the web, in person he was just too… nice; she would have to try again in the morning.

Her heels click against the concrete as they finally turn onto her street, the change in direction causing her long honey hair to lift and dance across her face as the wind caught it. He makes a comment and she laughs lightly before turning her head, rolling her powder blue eyes to the skies. They make their way up her drive to the door where she has already tugged off the jacket, holding it out to him as she thanks him for a wonderful evening, the same Oscar winning sweet smile playing on her painted lips.

Her jaw drops for a second in surprise as no lean in for a peck on the cheek is given. Instead he steps forward arm outstretched to follow her, leading her in as she unlocks the door.

"Coffee?" His voice is different, almost like he's taunting her, playing her at her own game as she hears the door click behind them.

"Sure… why not." She replies a little stunned; this isn't how tonight was planned to end at all. Her plot to gas to the girls about her disastrous date will have to go on hold; she shrugs.

"Leave them on." He says firmly as she goes to kick her heels off.

Silently she nods, before beaconing him towards to kitchen, her breathing hitched as her stomach begins to fill with butterflies. No man had ever talked like that to her before, and with three very simple words she'd already become putty in his hands.

Before they reach the kitchen, as they make their way through the cream coloured lounge, he calls for her to stop. Watching as she totters in her heels to a halt, he begins to slowly circle her, his eyes boring into hers as they lock. A knowing smile travels across his lips as he watches her visibly tremble under his gaze.

"Place your hands on the mantle April," His voice is cool and dangerously soft. Waiting as she slowly steps forwards, positioning herself in front of the fireplace, arms raised and resting against the surface, watching him in the large mirror facing her.

"Good girl" He purrs into her ear as he moves in behind her, his breath on her neck like a warm tropical breeze against her skin. "You did very well at dinner April," he continues, his body a hair's breadth away from hers, "all that nodding and smiling, you'll make someone a lovely trophy wife someday if you carry on like that."

She chews her bottom lip to stay silent, staring straight ahead as his hands come to rest on her hips, his fingertips twisting a little in the black silk.

"Were you bored? I was bored." Jim asks rhetorically as he moves one hand up, grazing her ribs, snaking through the centre of her chest. "Restaurants and wine and dining. All so normal. So boring." His hand winds up to her slim neck, his fingers wrapping around it. "I almost took you over my knee there and then when you ordered desert." He hisses as his grip on her throat tightens, relishing the squeak that escapes her. "All those downward glances. The coy smiles." He continues, pulling their bodies closer yet, "You have everything," he rolls his eyes around the plush room "yet you want to beg for things, you pine for subjugation, to be dominated." He growls, nipping her ear for just a moment to hear her whimper in need, her eyes misty with desire as he reads her.

"You are mine now. Tomorrow you will close your account online; no one else is to have you." His lower hand slips between her legs, cupping her sex through her thin dress "Not even you, are we clear?" He stares at her reflection in the mirror, his eyes dark. She nods.

"Good girl. Now you will stay here until you hear the door close. I will come for you tomorrow night. You will bathe yourself before my arrival. Your hair will be dry and you will dress formally." He kisses the side of her neck, his lips like a static shock to her skin. "Goodnight pet."

He releases her suddenly, she watches in the mirror as he gathers his coat without a second glance at her, before exiting the house, leaving her alone.

April gasps as she lets out the breath she didn't know she was holding as she crumbles to the floor. Her heart pounding in her chest as adrenaline courses through her vines like magma, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Raking her fingers through her hair she wonders how she'll ever sleep tonight as she shakily recovers herself, her mind racing.

The next day could not have come quick enough; waking before her alarm April began a deep clean of the house, already filled with the need to satisfy and impress him. At noon her phone buzzes against her thigh.

_7 o'clock. Be ready. I don't like to be kept waiting. M_

Her stomach flips as she reads it over and over; no kisses no sweet-nothings. An order and she will obey. Her fingers hover over the keys to reply, unable to conjure what he might want in a response, she props herself against the edge of the bath, drafting and deleting what to say back. Before she has a chance to send any semblance of a reply her mobile buzzes again.

_The answer you are looking for is 'Yes Sir'.M_

She almost breaks the buttons of her phone as she types.

_Sorry. Yes Sir. x _

She holds her phone in her hands waiting a few minutes until it is clear that that is all he is giving her. Her mind races as she finishes her chores around the house. Even preparing a light meal that could be warmed if needed, wrapping it and popping it into the fridge.

It is 6 o'clock and she is immersed in bubbles, the claw footed bath filled to the brim with lotions and suds as she scrubs every inch of her milk white skin, her hair foamy and scented. She pulls herself out after showering off the froth, and readies her skin for make-up in the bathroom mirror.

With five minutes to spare she paces her bedroom wearing a favourite lace number in cream, her hair pinned up in a loose bun of curls, make-up set with thick lashes. Pressing her perfectly manicured fingertips together as she waits impatiently, her heels leaving pin prick dents in the carpet as she walks too and fro.

As the doorbell chimes she nearly trips to rush downstairs, composing herself as she reaches the white wooden door, she reaches out, unlocking the latch and with fumbled fingers she swings it open.

"Next time you will be waiting by the door. Not upstairs." He barely glances at her as he steps past into the familiar lounge area. She moves behind him, reaching up to take his coat which is relinquished.

"Sorry." She mumbles as she hangs it up on the hat stand in the corner.

"Sorry what?" His voice is deep and holds nothing of the softness it bestowed the day before.

"Sorry Sir." She finishes quickly, turning to look up at him, his eyes dark and piercing as he takes in her appearance with one swoop of a glance.

Stepping forwards towards her, dressed head to toe in black Armani, his Church's barely making a sound on the carpet as he moves, closing the distance between them quickly. Raising a hand he takes hold of her neat chin, tilting it gently up towards him. "Good girl," he whispers, satisfied with the pink that rises in her cheeks.

His spare arm moves slowly to her side, wrapping around to the small of her back pulling her closer in as he leans down. Pressing his lips to hers, he claims her, relishing the soft whimpers that he pulls from her throat, his tongue running over her bottom lip, before forcing entry to invade her mouth. She loses herself, her arms draped over his shoulders as the kiss deepens, her eyes fluttering to a close.

It ends as quickly as it started; pulling back, finishing with a light peck to her forehead he steps away to admire her, panting and wanting. Snapping his fingers, pulling her from her haze he points at the fireplace.

"The usual position my dear."

She nods and hurries over, placing her hands on the mantle obediently without a second thought. He is behind her in an instant, his hand around her throat.

"I think you missed something pet." He growls into her ear, his eyes dark in the reflection of the mirror.

"Sorry… Yes Sir." She peeps as his hold on her throat tightens.

"Better." He loosens his grip. "Now, my dear, this is how you will address me. Use my real name and I will stop. It will be our safe word. Is this clear?"

"Yes… Sir," She hurriedly adds, nodding a little in his grip. He makes a noise in his throat of acceptance and steps back, letting go of her.

"Pull up your dress, over your hips." He says, his head tilting a little as he waits. "Today." He adds as she hesitates.

Quickly she tugs at the hem, shimmying up the tight fabric until it is folded snuggly over her hips, baring her lace thong and hold up stockings.

"You will wear a garter belt next time for your stockings." He remarks as he appreciates the view.

"Yes Sir" She re-places her hands on the mantle, bending at the waist a little, her heels tilting her forwards. Her body tenses as she hears the sound of metal clinking as he undoes his belt, the sound of leather being pulled from expensive fabric. Her heart begins to thunder against her chest, a rabbit pace of excitement and fear.

"You will count out loud for me. If you lose count we will start again," he instructs. She watches in the mirror as he takes a stance behind her.

The belt whistles in the air before the leather sharply cracks against her behind causing a delicious yelp to escape her lips.

"One… Sir," She gasps, her nails digging into the mantle as she composes herself, the pain was instantaneous but the pleasure afterwards lingers like the taste of something sweet.

He smiles at her readiness to please him before raising his arm again and unleashing stroke after stroke against her pale white skin, tenderising it, leaving fresh pink strap lines. Her cries with each stroke get louder as she counts, sobs between each one more desperate.

"Twenty… Sir…" She barely manages to formulate the words as it ends. Relief washes over her like a cascade of ice water against her burning body as she hears the sound of the belt dropping to the floor.

"Good girl." He hushes her as she turns to him, into his embrace, nuzzling against his suit. His hands hold her close to him, stroking her back for comfort as he waits patiently for her weeping to subside. "Go to your room, remove your dress." He whispers in her ear as she quietens down, she nods and responds before turning and heading upstairs, her pace slow as her behind throbs.

He gives her moment to ready herself; to undress and wipe the mascara ridden tears from her cheeks. Removing his suit jacket and tie, adding them to the hat stand, followed by his shoes and socks which he leaves at the door he heads upstairs confident that finding her room will be easy.

Upon reaching the landing he heads for the only door not closed, smirking at her unconscious effort to be open to him, always. He steps inside the room giving it a quick scan which reveals nothing he hadn't expected. The scent of polish, cleaner and fresh linin reaching his nose; she'd freshened it up for him. Contemporary fixtures with very few decorations, she didn't spend much time in here he could tell, until now.

His eyes come to rest upon her figure, knelt in the centre of the large sleigh bed which dominates the room. Her underwear matches, he mentally compliments her, watching her chest rise and fall in a brassiere designed to flatter.

"Lay back." He commands softly as he begins to unbutton his crisp shirt marked with her tears, revealing a tanned toned torso. She bends back to lie down on the silk sheets, feeling them cool her behind as she presses into them. Slowly he mounts the bed, climbing over to her until his body covers hers pinning her to the mattress.

Running the back of his hand down the side of her cheek he tilts her head back into the pillows before slowly pressing soft kisses along her neck, nipping and licking in places as he feels her body respond to him.

Working his way down between her breasts to her navel, his eyes trained on hers which flutter shut with each tender kiss, and open with each nip. He finds his way down between her legs, giving each thigh equal attention as his hand slips into his pocket, pulling out a switch blade, hooking it carefully beneath the lace of her panties, pulling up sharply to tear the fabric from her skin.

She opens her mouth to protest but he silences her with a look, throwing the tattered remains aside he descends on her. Bringing his mouth to her hairless mound, he buries himself between her legs. Lightly at first, he wets her entrance with his tongue, curling it over her soft folds, tasting her. Enjoying the whimpers of pleasure he extracts as he sucks softly on her clit, feeling himself grow inside his suit pants, which become almost painfully tight. As she begins to drip her nectar onto his tongue he pulls away, savouring the taste. She whinnies in protest.

He tuts at her pulling himself up to kneel high over her body. Sliding a hand down to cradle her slim neck he pulls her to him, looking down at his fastened suit pants, an eyebrow raised. She responds quickly, her fingers racing to free him, frantically popping open the tight buttons.

A moment passes in silence as her eyes run down his body until they stop on the fully erect member shadowing her small face, a blush creeping across her cheeks. Her body carefully leans forwards to press her soft lips against the very tip of his cock, kissing it lightly at first. Slowly her tongue begins to curl around the head gently circling it before drawing it into her mouth, tightening her lips around the girth.

Sucking gently her eyes gaze back up at him as he weaves his fingers into her hair, holding her in place as her soft wet tongue dances around the end of his cock, feeling it throb in her small mouth. Deliberately she slows her movements just to hear his delicious voice express his desire for more; he pulls her closer, her mouth widening to take more, her quiet moans vibrating her tongue against his sensitive skin as his dick delves deeper.

Looking down at the inch left to pass through her satin lips his grip on her hair tightens to hold her still as she sucks hungrily on the length already tightly held within her hot wet mouth. Groaning with pleasure he roughly pulls her forwards burying his length down her tight throat, feeling her body jerk as his balls slap her chin.

"Good girl" He moans as he holds her in place, her body quivers in his grasp as his thick member swells and pulses. Feeling her breath quicken he pulls sharply on her hair pulling her from him for a moment before filling her once again, the moans from her exquisite against the sensitive head of his cock as it's squeezed and massaged by the tightness of her throat.

Loosening the grip on her golden curls he allows her to move slowly, her head bobbing against him as she begins to work his cock her way, her tongue plays with its length as her lips wrap tightly round his thickness. Each stroke taking more in, feeling the head dip down her throat with each thrust, she hears a satisfied groan escape his throat. Abruptly he pulls away from her, grasping her soaked chin forcing her to look up.

"Beg for it." He pants at her, his body more relaxed though his eyes are just as hard.

"Please… you know what I want." She strains against his hold.

His grip on her tightens as he raises both eyebrows clearly not satisfied, his throbbing member pressed lightly against her stomach, the heat coming from between her thighs sweltering.

"Please, fuck me Sir." She whimpers, swallowing quietly, her eyes quake as he forces her to stare up at him.

He positions himself in an instant, the thick head of his arousal pressed against her slippery entrance, settling himself within the cradle of her thighs. With a dark smile, he brushes a kiss over her lips, then sealing his mouth over hers completely, swallowing her soft cries as he begins to sheath himself inside her. Agonisingly slowly he begins to stretch her tight opening, feeling the trembles travel down her body against him.

With a sharp thrust he fills her completely, relishing the choked cry that's torn from her throat. Moving his face down he nuzzles her neck as he holds her still for a moment, allowing her to adjust to his size, before beginning to pull out and slamming back in with abandon, savouring the moans each thrust brings from her.

He pulls himself up onto his elbows looking down at her as she stares up at him, her eyes glassy and filled with passion, widening slightly as he shifts inside her. Her lips part, her breathing sharp as she gasps for air. Bringing her hands she runs her fingers through his hair, tugging slightly as their bodies clash together.

Gently he reaches up with one hand and removes both of hers from tangling them in his mane, his expression darkening a little as he presses her small wrists down firmly onto the cushion behind her head.

He smirks as his arm slips beneath her, withdrawing his cock from her white hot pussy and flipping her body as though a rag doll onto all fours, pulling her arms up to grip the raised end of the bed. Finding his place at her entrance again and using her shoulder for leverage he slams forwards filling her in one long delicious thrust. Groaning as he hears her cries and quivering moans, feeling his balls slap against her clit as he takes her roughly. One hand on her shoulder another on her hip he drives his cock forwards, stretching her tightness, feeling her juices pool between them.

Grunting explicates he works her body, nails raking into her sides as their skin begins to glisten with sweat. Raising the hand that had held her hip he brings it down hard against the marked pink and white dome of her ass, savouring the scream it produces. He swaps sides, adding a matching hand print to the other cheek, the second scream louder; more passionate and desperate. As the spanking continues, he watches her ass turn from pastel pink to a raging red, her body quivering beneath him as she begs for mercy.

Eventually he stops his rhythmic destruction of her ass cheeks as he feels her body tighten around him, her gasps increased, her moans louder. Wrapping his fingers in her hair he pulls her head back, arching her spine, feeling his cock throb within her.

"Please Sir… I…" She whimpers tilting her head to look at him, her eyes filled with a longing pleasure.

Nodding he allows her to see him give permission, before pushing her down into the cushions of the bed, his hand slipping round to cover her mouth as her screams become louder, as his thrusts become faster and more brutal. Flattening her body with his, the sounds of his cock pounding into her tight pussy fill the air as his hand muffles her screams.

Groaning he feels the edge of his release arrive, his cock pulsing and twitching inside her before he pulls out entirely, only to slam back in once more, filling her with his seed. Her body reacts equally, convulsing beneath him, trembling as she comes, her nails clawing the fabric beneath her as her body shudders with each pulse of pleasure, shrieking into his hand.

Holding himself within her, feeling the cascade of combined cum running down his shaft and puddling between them, he pulls her hair away from her face, releasing her mouth and planting a soft kiss on the back of her neck. Feeling her soft quivers as she mews quietly, he rolls to the side of her, turning her body with him, still connected as he holds her, their panting echoing round the room.

He waits as her breathing slows to a steady pace, watching her chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. Gently he pulls from her, before rising from the bed, carefully throwing a sheet over her beautifully marked and exhausted body. Brushing the hair away from her face he plants a soft kiss to her forehead before gathering his clothing silently to leave.

In the morning she wakes, warm but confused. Her body throbs and is aching wonderfully as she rises from the empty bed, wrapping her dressing gown carefully around her. She spots her phone on the dresser blinking with a message.

_Breakfast will be delivered to you at 9. Relax and heal today. _

_I will pick you up at 8 this evening. Wear red. M_

The doorbell chimes as if on cue and her heart skips a beat, a smile creeping over her lips as she walks with the sting still present on her behind and with thoughts of what lies ahead.

* * *

_Thank you for reading!_

_Please let me know what you think!_


End file.
